


Hands

by NerdyGrlWonder



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 11:43:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3568397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyGrlWonder/pseuds/NerdyGrlWonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is an old saying that the eyes are the windows to the soul but for Ichabod, it was his hands that told Abbie everything she needed to know about him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands

**Author's Note:**

> This was a special birthday gift for kiarasnaps over on tumblr

There is an old saying that the eyes are the windows to the soul but for Ichabod, it was his hands that told Abbie everything she needed to know about him. From the very first time she met him and noticed his fidgeting hands beneath his shackled wrists, she knew that she would be able to read him if she just watched his hands.

She felt his massive hand slip into her small one when she reached out to him, pleading for him to find another way. In that instant, she could feel his resignation, his fear, his desire to live. She felt each of those emotions in the way his fingers trembled and in the way his thumb dragged slowly over her knuckles. His hand squeezed hers as if willing her to anchor him to existence.

Moments later, she felt those same hands embrace her in relief, hope and companionship. It was the first time that either of them was willing to openly acknowledge how much they cared for each other. Those hands became her barometer for how Ichabod was feeling. His hands became her secret obsession.

Abbie like to watch his hands and their ceaseless movements. When he was pensive or confused, his hands would ball into fists. When he was agitated, his fingers would twitch rapidly. In his moments of frustration and anger, he’d splay his fingers apart and they’d shake from the tension.

When he needed to drive home a point, he’d thrust his index finger into the air or the face of the person to whom he was speaking. Abbie could simply watch his hands and gauge absolutely everything she needed to about him. His hands told his story for him.

She came to rely on them not just for insight into her partner’s thoughts and soul, but to anchor her, to guide her and to comfort her. When Abbie began to notice those same hands lingering on her waist and caressing the side of her face, she knew that she would always be at their mercy. When she felt those hands surf the peaks and valleys of her frame, grab firmly onto her hips or stroke her in the spots that made her see stars, she realized that Crane had known all along about her love for his hands and would do anything to make sure she always felt safe and loved within them.

 


End file.
